


On the Wings of Mercy

by windsweep



Series: kiss the cleric [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: M/M, Most of the flashback dialogue taken from PoR Ch. 18, Rated M for discussions of sex but nothing explicit happens, Takes place post-PoR Chapter 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweep/pseuds/windsweep
Summary: Two ex-coworkers meet under unusual circumstances, but don't seem to have any trouble resuming their normal routine. Which is great, because one of you said you were prepared to kill the other earlier today, and it's annoying to deal with awkward situations.
Relationships: Kilroy | Rhys/Shinon (Fire Emblem)
Series: kiss the cleric [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854409
Kudos: 12





	On the Wings of Mercy

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been in this situation,” Rhys remarks as he holds up a vial in his hand and shakes it, its contents swishing around inside. Once again, Shinon lies resting, injured and aching all over, while Rhys stands watchfully over him, dutifully tending to him. Their tent is illuminated only by the light of a strange sort of lantern that looks to be powered by lightning magic. Outside, night has long since fallen, but given that most of the camp are asleep by now, the only noise accompanying them tonight is the howling of the piercingly cold Daein winds. Really, besides the unusual location, Shinon already feels like he’s resuming his previous life right where he left off. Aside from the fact that maybe 10 or 12 hours ago, he was threatening to kill Rhys, of course.

_“Shinon…” Rhys had said, a look of deep concern in his eyes, “Is there something you can’t tell us that’s forcing you to do this? Are you protecting someone? ...Has someone you love been taken hostage? If so, we could--”_

_It was so_ **_like_ ** _Rhys to dream up all of these excuses to explain his betrayal, Shinon had thought, and it had irritated him. What was he doing out of formation, anyway, much less trying to approach an enemy bowman? Had he gotten lost, disoriented from exhaustion? Rhys could have some absurd ideas about how the world works sometimes, but he wasn’t_ **_stupid_ ** _. “No! There’s nothing! Nothing but the right price, at least… You’re overestimating me. Get going, pretty boy. Stick around any longer, and I’ll start earning my pay with you!”_

_Shinon had watched Rhys shiver in place on unsteady legs for a few short moments after that. Cold, scared, or tired, Shinon had decided to stop speculating on the cause of his shaking and had almost decided to make a show of drawing his bow until Rhys had spoken up again. “...Very well. I don’t want a fight with you, Shinon. I was so relieved to see you, that… I guess I’d forgotten this was a battlefield. Farewell.”_

_Shinon had been silent as he watched Rhys’ figure retreat back into the distance…_

“I think I’ve mixed this solution well enough. I know you prefer my favourite tea, but… regrettably… I used the last of my herbs some time ago, so…” Rhys trails off, shooting a sympathetic look down at Shinon.

Shinon could swear he feels the bile rise up in his throat and his mouth dry as he considers the viscous texture and deeply bitter taste of a vulnerary. The last group he had been working with had a Bishop of their own on board, so he hasn’t needed to hock one down in a while now. “Not a vulnerary.”

“I’m afraid so…” Rhys replies, as if he really feels sorry.

“Forget it. I’m not drinking that crap.”

“You don’t want any pain relief? I don’t believe you.” Rhys looks like he’s mulling over a thought for a second. “You aren’t used to the taste by now? What did you do for healing while on your travels?”

Shinon sighs impatiently. “The taste sucks, but it’s the _texture_ that’s the worst part of taking these things.” Rhys nods in thoughtful agreement to the sentiment. “If you _must_ know, I ended up buying as many elixirs as I could take with me, since it’s so rare for clerics to be mercenaries. They go down as smooth as whisky and fix up whatever ails you.”

Rhys’ eyes widen at that. “A-and I’m sure you’re aware how much more expensive they are than vulneraries…?”

“You get what you pay for.”

“Now you’re just being obstinate!” Rhys snaps. He takes a deep breath and sighs before he continues. “I have my work cut out for me tonight. Please drink this so I can get started?”

Shinon glares at the bottle, but allows Rhys to draw closer to bring it to his lips. He has to suppress the urge to gag as the potion travels down his throat. He quickly and strongly swallows the last of it, and his sore limbs thank him for his sacrifice as his aches already begin to fade. “Got any water to wash this down with?” he groans.

“I certainly do!” Rhys, life-saver that he is, sets the empty vial aside and fishes a cup from a stash of supplies behind him. Carefully he lifts and pours water from a large container into the cup and hands it over to Shinon. Afterward, he grabs another cup and pours himself a drink. “I think I’ll join you. I’ve been forgetting to get enough water today. We could even make a toast…?”

“Why don’t we save that for when we _actually_ drink together?” Shinon takes in the water like a fish and is more than pleased to bid goodbye to the taste of the vulnerary. “Not that I’ve ever seen you drink before.”

“Well, you’ve never invited me to drink with you. You always either did it alone or only with Gatrie,” Rhys says in between sips, and he has a fair point. Shinon recalls also having drunk with Greil on occasion, but Gatrie _had_ been his main drinking buddy. “Besides, I’m a teetotaler.” 

Shinon will never understand why Rhys so adamantly refuses to partake in one of the only joys of life, but whatever. It’s not his problem, and he’ll probably never think about it again. He shakes his head when Rhys asks if he wants any more water and hands his empty cup over for Rhys to set aside.

“Can I have you strip for me?” Rhys asks, and Shinon sits in stunned silence at what he’s hearing. “Or would you rather have my help this time?”

“Taking charge tonight, are you? That’s rare,” Shinon muses, partially to himself. He supposes it’s not the _first_ time, but…

Rhys’ face tints pink as he seems to realise how he phrased his request. “Wh-- I-- _Shinon_!” Rhys manages to sputter out, but he realises the volume of his outburst and hushes his voice. “I just need your clothes off so that I can treat your wounds.”

“Oh, right. And here I thought I was liking where this was going.”

“Y-you should _still_ like where this is going! I’m much better with a staff than I was months ago. I should have you fixed up in no time.” Shinon makes a disappointed hum at that. “We have a strict healer-patient relationship right now. I’ll think about seeing you after you’ve recovered.”

Troublesome, but that’s always been how it was between them once they’d started screwing around sometimes. Rhys called it “setting professional boundaries,” but that sounded like a crock of shit to Shinon. How could it be possible to _more ethically_ have a favourite patient? It was nothing but a flimsy justification. Not that he really cares in the end. It’s just funny to watch him struggle with himself.

In any case, Shinon could probably manage to take his own clothes off, but he’s feeling pretty lazy tonight, so he allows Rhys to help him unclothe. Rhys is as slow and careful in the process as he always is, gingerly lifting each layer of damaged, bloody clothing off and setting it aside in a neat pile. Shinon catches him taking lingering glances at his bare body-- Rhys has never been subtle, Ashera help him-- but then Rhys winces at the cuts and bruises that had formed on Shinon’s skin. 

“You two shouldn’t fight,” Rhys says. He fumbles around in his supplies again and produces a small bucket and some wash rags. He reaches for the large water container from before and pours it into the bucket. 

“Funny, I thought your job was to _fix_ my wounds, not _lecture_ me about them.” Shinon recognises the fact that Rhys’ talents were the reason why many of the Greil Mercenaries stayed in good enough shape to be able to continue their careers, Titania included, but he was still a relatively recent recruit. He didn’t know Greil the way Shinon had, couldn’t possibly comprehend Shinon’s feelings about his passing and the Mercenaries’ new leadership, and frankly Shinon thinks Rhys has some nerve telling him what to do, but he’s too tired to pursue the matter any further. This time, at least.

Rhys sighs in that way he does when he feels his patience being tried just a little bit, but has the smarts to drop the subject as well. He takes one of the rags and dips it into the water until he feels it’s wet enough, and kneels beside Shinon to start cleaning the dirt and blood off of him, stopping momentarily whenever he hears Shinon hiss in pain at the contact. He sets aside each rag when he sees that it’s too dirty to continue using and grabs new ones, repeating the process until he’s worked his way up to Shinon’s face. At this point, Rhys pauses as tears well up in his eyes.

“What’s the matter,” Shinon says, maybe a little too demanding, but they both know by now that delicate feelings aren’t Shinon’s strong suit. He watches Rhys sniffle, rub the tears out of his eyes, and take a deep breath, as if to keep himself from sobbing, sitting in uncomfortable silence all the while. Was this going to go on much longer…?

Rhys takes another deep breath before he replies. “I’m not sad, exactly. Actually-- I’m happy. I’m… relieved. That you’re here with us again, alive. I worried after you these past couple of months. That’s all.” He lays his palm on one of Shinon’s cheeks in a caressing touch and peers into his eyes. “I thought one of us would’ve died before we ever saw each other again.”

Oh, so that’s it. Shinon doesn’t know what to say to that. He could lecture Rhys about how stupid it is to get so sappy in a career like this until he was blue in the face, but he knew by now that Rhys would never listen. It was like trying to housebreak a dog by making it sniff its own piss. “Hey…” Shinon says softly, moving one of his hands to loosely grip Rhys’ and gently push it away. Rhys gets the message immediately and withdraws his hand. “What happened to our ‘professional relationship?’”

Rhys gasps. “Right… right. I forgot myself. Forgive me, Shinon. Please.”

“Yeah, I’ll grant you my forgiveness. Just this once,” Shinon teases. Anything to get him to quit crying. Why did people _love_ to come crying to him? What did they think he was going to do about it?

Rhys sounds sincere when he replies, “I’ll treasure it.” He finishes the cleaning process by dabbing at Shinon’s face with the final clean washcloth, and looks to have composed himself again by the time he finishes. Next, he grabs at an all-too-familiar Mend staff, although Shinon chooses to focus his gaze on the way Rhys’ long fingers wrap around the shaft of it. That reminds him…

“The last company I worked for was one of the few that had a bishop,” Shinon mentions, “But he was nothing like you.”

“How’s that?” Rhys asks, but then he begins reciting some chant; Shinon presumes it’s to activate the staff, but he’s never really cared about the processes of magic. For all he knows, it’s just a ritual he follows to gain the focus necessary for what he’s about to do.

“He never jacked me off, for one,” Shinon starts.

“ _Shinon_ , that’s _crude_!” Rhys whines, and the staff loses the glow it was starting to build. He makes a frustrated noise as he begins his chant again, but Shinon thinks it was worth the priceless look on his face. Just the reaction he wanted to see. 

“He was also a lot older than you,” Shinon continues. The tip of the staff emanates a green light again, in just the way it he’s watched it do so many times, but he takes the time to watch it begin to shimmer and grow and eventually envelop his entire body. The cuts and bruises from Ike’s sword earlier that day are fading away even now, he’s sure. “And he didn’t give a shit how I felt when he was treating me. Not like the way you treat me like fine china.”

Rhys doesn’t speak again until the spell is finished. He places the staff where it was before he picked it up. “Oh? Am I really so unusual?”

Some part of Shinon knows he should feel bad for cracking a laugh at that, but he ignores it. “Easily the strangest person _I’ve_ ever met.”

“Well! I’ve never met anyone like _you_ , either. So there,” Rhys pouts, and although Shinon knows that assholes like himself are a coin a dozen, he believes him. Rhys grew up staying inside because of his illness all the time, didn’t he? And his only company were his kind old parents. He was so sheltered and barely even knew it. “Maybe _you’re_ the strange one, have you considered that?”

“No, and I don’t think I will,” Shinon states plainly. “Are we done for tonight?”

“What makes me so odd in your eyes?” Rhys presses on, ignoring the question, and somehow Shinon knows that he isn’t going to budge until he gets a substantial answer. _Now_ which of the two was being the obstinate one? How to narrow it down…

“It’d be easier to say what _isn’t_ weird about you, but sure, I’ll try,” Shinon admits. “The main one I’m thinking about right now is that most people wouldn’t give a fuck if a traitor bled out on the ground and died. But here comes Rhys the Angel, flying in on the wings of mercy to help him. Just as he has over… and over… and over again. Ever the saviour.”

“Yes, well,” Rhys places a hand behind his neck and idly rubs it in thought. “It’s cruel to leave people out to die. When you have the ability to help an injured person, you have to use it. You _have_ to.”

Shinon has heard this shit before. He knows it really might always be that simple to him. This is why he had started to just take Rhys at face value instead of questioning what he could possibly gain from acting like this. Not like Shinon would ever be able to come up with an answer to this mystery on his own, anyway; Shinon doesn’t _have_ the ability to help injured people if he doesn’t have an elixir on him, but he might be able to put them out of their misery.

“But to get back to your question,” Rhys says, “Yes, I think we’re about done for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll see if Mist can fix up your clothes, but I really think we should see about getting new ones as soon as we can. I’ve got some spares that should be warm and similar to your size in the meantime.”

“Great.” Shinon turns on his side to get ready to sleep, facing away from Rhys.

“Just that…”

“Better spit it out before I fall asleep here.”

“I just wish I understood you. I knew you weren’t bluffing when you said you’d start shooting at me if I didn’t retreat, so I did it, but… why did you try to spare me in the first place?”

“Oh, that. Rhys, I got smacked around with a sword twice today. I’m tired. I’ll tell you later, alright?” ...Is what Shinon says, but in reality he has no intention of ever explaining himself to Rhys. No more talking. “‘Night.”

“Good night, Shinon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Healers are the backbone of mercenary society. It's fucked how undervalued their labour is considering they're one of the only things keeping us alive. I am NOT just saying this because ours jacks me off and tells me I'm good sometimes. Hold on, I'm being handed a note... [SOREN HAS PROMOTED TO SAGE] ...Oh? You're a healer? What makes you so special? An elixir can replace you. And I happen to like Rhys' handjobs.


End file.
